I'll Carry You Home
by FromMyFingertips
Summary: I need to get my story straight asking bout a scar,and I know I gave it to you months ago I know you're trying to forget,but between the drinks and subtle things the holes in my apologies,you know I'm trying hard to take it back. Johnlock. After the fall.
1. The Angels Never Arrived

I trudged up the stairs at 221 B Baker Street. People say time heals all wounds, but the hole the Sherlock had left in my heart was irreparable. I had always had somewhat of a crush on the detective something I kept to myself and it wasn't until I lost him that I realized the extent of my feelings. Everyday became harder and harder. Most days I found myself struggling just to get out of bed. It amazed me how much one person could affect another and Sherlock had done just that. I sighed as I entered the flat everything still in the same place it had been the day Sherlock died. I hadn't moved a single thing out of fear I would ruin his memory if I did. I placed the groceries on the table and headed into the sitting room taking note of one minor change.

"MRS. HUDSON!" I yelled feeling myself becoming increasingly annoyed and agitated as I stared at the wall behind the couch.

I listened as her hurried footsteps became louder as she reached the top of the stairs. "Oh…I meant to talk to you about that…"

"WHERE IS IT?"

"I had them cover it up dear."

"WHY? I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE HIS SMILEY FACE WHERE IT WAS!"

"The wall was riddled with bullet holes. It didn't look proper. If you're going to move out and have new tenants come to look at the place it needs to be in tip top shape."

Yes it was true I was actually considering moving out of the flat that Sherlock and I had shared leaving behind all the memories we had made there. Part of my decision was based on my therapists idea that the longer I stay the more attached I would become. I sighed and rubbed my throbbing forehead trying to relieve the sudden pressure that had built up in my head.

"Just…you should have left it or at least consulted with me. I wasn't ready to let it go."

"But you have to let it go John. He's gone."

"I know that." I said my voice cracking. "Can you just go please? Don't touch anything on your way out."

"About that…I did clean out your fridge this afternoon as well." If I hadn't been brought up to not hit women I would have knocked the old bat all the way down the stairs without hesitation. "The head was starting to smell! It permeated the walls and floors everything! People were complaining!"

"What people? I don't smell anything."

"Well you wouldn't you live here."

"Goodnight Mrs. Hudson." I said sternly walking over to the door and slamming it in her face. Honestly the woman had no respect for the dead or Sherlock's things. I stared at the newly wallpapered wall and I felt the tears begin to well up in my eyes. I thought back to the day when he had spray painted the smiley face onto the wall before filling it with bullet holes during one of his moments of boredom. I couldn't hold it back and I let all my emotions escape me turning me into a big sobbing mess. I sat down on the sofa and grabbed one of the pillows burying my face in it trying to muffle the noises I was making. I cried so hard my head hurt and the only thing that distracted me from my sob fest was the sound of my cellphone going off. I sniffled and grabbed it looking at the unknown number that flashed across the screen. I had made it a point not to answer calls from people I did know, but considering I had been advertising the flat I could only think that it was a potential tenant for Mrs. Hudson. I answered and tried to make myself sound as calm and collected as possible.

"This is John Watson." The voice that came from the other end of the phone sounded extremely comforting and familiar, but it couldn't possibly be him. Then again as of lately everyone I talked too sounded like Sherlock.

"I'm calling to inquire about the flat on Baker Street."

"Um…yes it's for rent."

"I'd like to stop by tomorrow and take a look at it. Would you mind?"

I shook my head and grabbed my date book even though I knew I'd be free the entire day. I opened it up and stared at its blank pages. "I can fit you in tomorrow at 10 am. Is that ok?"

"Sounds perfect. Thank you John."

Before I could say goodbye I heard the familiar click of a phone being hung up and I did the same. I sat there and looked around the room taking in everything that had belonged to the detective. My heart stopped upon glancing at the skull on the fireplace and I regretted my decision to move. There was only one thing to do. I had to call the man back and tell him the meeting was off. I quickly redialed only to find that the number had oddly been disconnected. There was nothing more I could do and I decided it best if I just went to bed. I got up and made my way to Sherlock's bedroom crawling into his bed and pulling the sheets up to my chin. I took a deep breath the scent of him still lingered and it was the only thing that calmed me enough to help me fall asleep.

The next morning I was frantically trying to think of what I would say to the mysterious stranger when he showed up. "I'm sorry sir, but I've decided not to move. Sorry, but the flat is not for rent."

"That's a shame. I was hoping it would be."

I stopped a chill ran down my spine. I felt my face become flushed at the thought of a stranger listening to me talk to myself. "I didn't know you were there." I turned around expecting to see someone else, but instead the person standing in the doorway caused my very breath to leave me.

"Hello John." He said with a slight smirk in his normal deep voice.

I felt my legs beginning to turn to jelly as I struggled to keep myself up shifting my body weight onto the kitchen table. Words escaped me and my entire body was physically wracked with pain. The sight of him knowing that he was still alive after all this time both stunned and angered me. How could he have put me through this? Did he not realize how much pain this would cause me? He was completely unaware of the agony I had felt these past few months and for him to just show up in the doorway one day with that stupid smirk on his face infuriated me. I found my balance and walked up to him still unsure if he was real.

"YOU STUPID FUCKING BASTARD!" I screamed before slamming my shoulders into his waist trying to push him onto the floor. I hadn't realized how close the stairs actually were and I felt my embrace loosen as he went tumbling head first down the stairs causing quite a bit of commotion. I hadn't meant to toss him down the stairs, but he deserved it and I didn't feel the least bit bad. "I CRIED MYSELF TO SLEEP EVERY FUCKING NIGHT I DREAMED OF YOU HAD NIGHTMARES ABOUT YOU I SUFFERED TREMENDOUSLY! I SEE MY THERAPIST NOW 3 TIMES A WEEK AND I'M STILL NOT OVER IT! YOU ARE THE MOST SELFISH DISGUSTING HUMAN BEING ON THE PLANET! HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO ME! I SHOULD HATE YOUR FUCKING GUTS, BUT I CAN'T BECAUSE I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU STUPID ARSE! YOU AND YOUR STUPID CHEEKBONES, YOUR STUPID HAIR, YOUR STUPID EYES STUPID SCARF STUPID WAY YOU STRUT INTO A ROOM LIKE YOU OWN IT! YOUR JUST SO STUPID!" Panic then set in when I heard him start to moan in pain. "OH SHIT SHERLOCK!" I ran down the stairs tripping slightly on the last two as I kneeled down next to him. "I'M SO SORRY! ARE YOU OK?" The next thing I knew he had grabbed the back of my neck and was desperately trying to pull my face to meet his. The only thing preventing him from doing so was my struggling to free myself. "Sherlock you're hurting me."

Our eyes met and he said three simple words. Three words that made my heart melt into a puddle of nothingness. "I missed you."

* * *

><p>The description for the story is based on the song that was playing while I was writing this. I think it describes their relationship somewhat and it's just a really wonderful song.<p>

**"We Are Young"**

Give me a second I,  
>I need to get my story straight<br>My friends are in the bathroom getting higher than the Empire State  
>My lover she's waiting for me just across the bar<br>My seat's been taken by some sunglasses asking bout a scar, and  
>I know I gave it to you months ago<br>I know you're trying to forget  
>But between the drinks and subtle things<br>The holes in my apologies, you know  
>I'm trying hard to take it back<br>So if by the time the bar closes  
>And you feel like falling down<br>I'll carry you home

Tonight  
>We are young<br>So let's set the world on fire  
>We can burn brighter than the sun<p>

Tonight  
>We are young<br>So let's set the world on fire  
>We can burn brighter than the sun<p>

Now I know that I'm not  
>All that you got<br>I guess that I, I just thought  
>Maybe we could find new ways to fall apart<br>But our friends are back  
>So let's raise a cup<br>'Cause I found someone to carry me home

Tonight  
>We are young<br>So let's set the world on fire  
>We can burn brighter than the sun<p>

Tonight  
>We are young<br>So let's set the world on fire  
>We can burn brighter than the sun<p>

Carry me home tonight (Nananananana)  
>Just carry me home tonight (Nananananana)<br>Carry me home tonight (Nananananana)  
>Just carry me home tonight (Nananananana)<p>

The moon is on my side  
>I have no reason to run<br>So will someone come and carry me home tonight  
>The angels never arrived<br>But I can hear the choir  
>So will someone come and carry me home<p>

Tonight  
>We are young<br>So let's set the world on fire  
>We can burn brighter than the sun<p>

Tonight  
>We are young<br>So let's set the world on fire  
>We can burn brighter than the sun<p>

So if by the time the bar closes  
>And you feel like falling down<br>I'll carry you home tonight


	2. Oh God Penis

I helped Sherlock into a cab as we drove off for the hospital to treat his injuries. I hadn't imagined falling down the stairs to be that bad then again Sherlock had a tendency to over-dramatize things. I listened as he moaned incessantly to the point where I wanted to simply gag him to shut him up. We hit a bump in the road and his moaning became louder followed by a slew of vulgar words directed at the cab driver. I rolled my eyes and took off my shoe and then my sock flashing it in front of the detectives face.

"If you don't shut up I'm going to shove this into your mouth and shut you up myself! I've told you already there is no real treatment for broken ribs they will heal on their own you just have to suck it up."

Sherlock leaned his head against the window his eyes closed shut. "How can you be so insensitive?"

"Hmmm let me think…you just mysteriously came back from the dead so sorry if I'm not kissing your arse right now!"

"You're so mean John! You have no idea what kind of pain I'm in!"

"Excuse me?" He opened one eye and directed his gaze towards me. "Listen you. I've been shot so don't even try to tell me I don't know what pain is!"

"Fine I'm sorry."

"Say that again a little louder."

"I'M SORRY!"

I smiled to myself upon hearing him make a complete fool of himself. "Apology NOT accepted."

"WHAT?"

God he was so perfect when he was irritated, but I then remembered his injuries and decided not to taunt him any further. "It's going to take more than an I'm sorry to make up for what you did."

"I know that." I watched as his long fingers made their way to my knee and I quickly slapped them away.

"Don't touch me you pervert!"

"Why not? Isn't that the reason why Sarah left you? Because you told her you were gay."

My mouth dropped open and my mind began to race. I had never disclosed my sexual orientation to him, but he was Sherlock I didn't really have to. "And how did you figure that out? Was it the underwear I was wearing? The color of my shoes? How I fix my hair?"

"Don't be ridiculous…" He hesitated. "I knew it at the Christmas party no straight man would wear the sweater."

"Jesus Christ. I am not discussing this with you right now."

"Why not? Everyone knows you're gay."

"Everyone does not know I'm gay. I haven't even told my parents."

"Out of fear of them disowning you."

"Stop it."

"I can understand I mean it must be hard to know you have not one, but two gay children."

"Get out of the car."

"But it's still moving…"

I then opened the door and pushed him out right in front of St. Bart's before asking the cab driver to take me back to the flat. Sherlock could be extremely insensitive and I was in no mood to deal with his constantly analyses of my personal life. When I got back to Baker Street I went about my day as usual making myself a cup of tea and sitting down to read the newspaper. After I finished I went into the sitting room and turned on the telly hoping to catch some insanely good crap TV. Doctor Who? No I never really cared for that show although Matt Smith is damn good looking. A random soap opera? No too dramatic for me. Antiques Roadshow? Now there was something I could get into. I always got a kick out of watching people bring in their most priceless possessions only to find out they weren't worth half of what they paid for it. I watched as a middle aged well to do woman showed off her prized vase that she paid £5,000 quid for.

"IT'S FAKE!" I yelled taking a sip of my tea and watching as the appraiser began to let her down gently.

"Well I'm afraid it's not authentic…"

"HA! TOLD YOU!"

"What the hell are you doing?"

I turned and looked up at Sherlock who was hovering over me. "Well look who it is. What did the doctor's say?"

"3 cracked ribs and not a damn thing they can do about it. They gave me this." He handed me his bottle of pain medications and I groaned.

"I guess now I'm going to have to babysit you. You're always so bad about taking medicine."

"It's not necessary. Drugs are useless 99% of the time."

"It will help you feel better."

"Impossible. It will simply knock me out and I'll sleep for an entire week."

"I know." I said with a devilish grin.

"Are you always this maniacal?"

"No that award goes to you." I sighed and tucked the bottle of pills into my shirt pocket. "Now tell me how did you really know I was gay?"

"I told you the sweater gave you away. Besides you don't hide it very well."

"I hide it better than Mycroft."

"Ugh Mycroft. He's always been flamboyant. Twirling around his little umbrella like a sissy. Clearly he's gay. By the way how is he?"

"I don't know we stopped talking after you died." There was an awkward silence that fell between us. Clearly Sherlock must have been interested in me after he tried to grab me in the cab, but he never actually admitted to it. He was very secretive about that part of his life, but I had to ask. "What about you then?"

"What about me?"

"Are you gay?"

He brushed me off. "What are you talking about?"

"In the cab…you tried to touch me."

"I tried to touch your knee. I didn't know touching someone's knee made you gay."

Of course how could I have been so stupid. Maybe he was just doing it to calm me down. I had seen the way he looked at Molly sometimes clearly he showed interest in her. Why then did he never pursue it? I mean the girl practically threw herself all over him whenever they were in a room together and he couldn't be that clueless. No he was clearly ignoring her advances.

"What would you classify yourself as then?"

"Asexual."

I rolled my eyes. "Sherlock you can't be asexual."

"Sure you can in fact 1% of the population experiences a lack in sexual interest. I am one of them."

"You're ridiculous. Fine you sit there and be asexual."

"I will."

I then got up and walked to my bedroom coming out moments later completely naked. "Do you want some tea Sherlock?"

"I'd love…SWEET JESUS!" I watched as he covered his eyes clearly taken aback by my sudden nude state. "John put some pants on!"

"Why? I always walk around naked. You're asexual it shouldn't bother you." I poured him a cup of tea and listened as his breathing became erratic clear signs he was having a massive panic attack. I walked over and set his tea down on the end table but not before hearing him whisper to himself. "OH GOD PENIS!"

I sat down across from him making it a point not to cross my legs as I sipped on my second cup of tea while trying to make small talk. "So what have you been up to these last few months?"

"Uh…um…I've been…travelling." He kept his eyes closed as he reached for his cup knocking it over in the process. "Dammit!"

"For someone who is asexual you sure are acting funny."

"Fine I take it back I'm pansexual."

"What the hell is that?"

"I love everyone!"

"You love women?"

His eyes then flew open and he looked at me with a confused face. "Women?"

"Yeah you know. They have breasts and vaginas."

"Oh shit…"

"What?"

He stared at me his eyes widening by the second. "I am gay."


	3. The 5 Stages of Grief

The detective and I sat in silence and I watched as his face changed its expression at least every 5 seconds. It was clear when he began talking that he was going through the 5 stages of grief though I wasn't quite sure what he was grieving over. Maybe he was grieving over the theory that being gay made him less than a man, which in my opinion was total bollocks. I sat and watched in amusement unsure how to help him cope with the revelation that he, like me, had an attraction to our own sex.

First there came denial.

"I can't be gay! I just can't be."

"Well you are."

"Mycroft is the gay one! I mean he is gayer than a gay pride parade! He flitters about London like a fairy with his little umbrella sprinkling fairy dust on everyone…"

"It's called cocaine not fairy dust."

"SHUT UP YOU'RE NOT HELPING!"

Then there was anger.

"DO YOU KNOW HOW BADLY GAY PEOPLE ARE TREATED!"

"Stop it. Times have changed. Gay people are far more accepted today than they were 20 years ago."

"I'VE SEEN IT WITH MY OWN EYES! I'VE WORKED SOME OF THEIR CASES I KNOW WHAT GOES ON! MY MOTHER GOES TO CHURCH! SHE SLEEPS WITH A BIBLE NEXT TO HER BED! SHE WILL CONDEMN ME TO HELL WHEN SHE FINDS OUT!"

"Wait your mother is still living?"

Next was bargaining.

"Do they have drugs to cure gayness?"

"No and don't even ask me such a thing I find it offensive."

"Therapy. Maybe I should try therapy."

"I'm in therapy."

"SHIT I'M SO SCREWED!"

Depression.

"What's the point in even trying to hide it? Everyone will find out and then they'll make fun of me."

"No one is going to make fun of you."

"How do you know? They make fun of you all the time."

"Pardon?"

He began to mock Lestrade. "Did you see how John holds his pinky out when he drinks his tea? He's so ladylike."

"Yeah that's an ongoing joke between us. He does it too."

"Does he?"

Then came the final and most important stage. Acceptance.

"Being gay isn't all that bad. I mean now I can make out with men and not feel badly about it."

"Because you make out with so many men."

"I will eventually. This is a new me John. I'm out, I'm liberated and God it feels so good! By the way why do they call us gay?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well gay means feelings of being "carefree", "happy", or "bright and showy"…bright and showy? They know about Mycroft!"

We both burst into a fit of laughter and God was his laugh beautiful. It was deep and almost guttural probably the one thing that attracted me to him more than his looks.

"That wasn't funny." I immediately crossed my legs and threw the newspaper onto my lap at the sound of Mycroft's voice. "Hello John." He smiled at me which caused my stomach to feel like it was about to drop out of my butt.

"What do you want Mycroft?" Sherlock asked turning his head to look at his brother who stood in the doorway twirling his umbrella. "Stop doing that!"

"Doing what?"

"That thing with your umbrella! We get it you're gay! Congratulations!"

"No need to be rude." He retorted before leaning his umbrella up against the wall.

"Um…can I go get some pants on please?" I asked in a feeble voice not wanting to bring any more attention to myself.

"Of course no one's stopping you." I stared at Sherlock and then at his brother. "Oh right…Mycroft go wait downstairs."

"But…"

"NOW!" Mycroft then turned on his heels and we listened as his footsteps became distant. Sherlock got up slowly his side still throbbing from his injury.

"You should take your medicine. It's in my room. I'll be right back." I then got up and walked to the back bedroom as Sherlock made his way down to talk to his brother, but not before taking a quick glance at my arse as I left the room.

"Why are you here?" Sherlock asked clearly not in any mood for his brother's company.

Mycroft rolled his eyes. "Because I heard you were back and I wanted to see you."

"You wanted to see me? You wanted to see the brother you gave up to Moriarty?"

"I'm sorry…"

"SORRY ISN'T ENOUGH!"

Before the fight could escalate I arrived at Sherlock's side holding two pills and a small glass of water. "Don't spit them up or anything like you always do."

"I have bad gag reflexes."

"Well being gay that could be an issue." There was silence and I watched as the two brothers stared off at each other. Mycroft's eyes widened with each passing second as a knot formed in my stomach. "Shit. I'm sorry I just…my damn mouth."

"It's fine John."

"No it isn't."

"John." I looked up at him and our eyes met. I had never seen him look at me like that almost as if he was reassuring me that he didn't mind that sometimes I let things slip. "It's o.k." I nodded and felt my heart begin to race. "It's true Mycroft. I am gay."

"Shut up."

"No really."

"Gay as in you like penis?"

"Gay as in I actually kind of like Liza Minnelli."

Mycroft gasped and covered his mouth. "What are you going to tell mother?"

"Nothing. I haven't talked to her in years. John thought she was dead."

"Well…I must inform you that she's staying with me and she's requested to see you. That's why I really came by."

"Ugh I'd rather jump off the top of St. Bart's again."

"OI!" I yelled feeling his comment to be insensitive to my feelings. "Don't say things like that."

"Right I forgot. Sorry Mycroft, but the answer is no." Sherlock took his medicine and handed me back the glass of water. "Good day." He turned to leave and made it halfway up the stairs before his brother gave him the devastating news.

"She's dying Sherlock."

He stopped and whipped his head around. "That's not funny."

"She has cancer. It's terminal."

He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. "Fine. I'll stop by tomorrow." Mycroft smiled and opened the door to leave. "What about your umbrella?"

"You keep it. Practice makes perfect." He winked which caused Sherlock to raise his eyebrow in confusion and left.

The detective looked at me and then looked back at the door trying to figure out what had just happened. "Does he really expect me to twirl an umbrella?" We laughed and headed back to our flat assuming our typical positions. Sherlock lay on the couch trying to alleviate his pain while I took a seat in my armchair.

"What do we do with the umbrella then?" I asked making myself comfortable.

"Give it to Mrs. Hudson. She was always fond of his umbrella."

I watched as Sherlock closed his eyes and began to tap his long fingers on his stomach clear signs that he was growing increasingly bored.

"Let's play a game then."

His eyes flew open. "CLUEDO?"

"HELL NO!" When I said I was never playing that game again with him I meant it. "I thought maybe I'd give you a name and you'd tell me if you'd sleep with them or not."

"What's the fun in that?"

"Anderson."

"Jesus Christ don't ever scare me like that! Just picturing him naked makes me gag."

I chuckled to myself and then got serious with my questions. "Would you sleep with Lestrade?"

Sherlock smiled to himself which didn't sit well with me. "Definitely."

I felt the beast inside me begin to roar. "Why is that?"

"He's like a silver fox running rampant through London with his big brown shoe button eyes. He looks damn good in a suit and he looks even better when he's just come back from Holiday and he's all nice and brown…wait am I attracted to Lestrade?"

"Clearly."

"Is he even gay?"

"No. I think I need a nap." By now I was actually in a very bad mood just hearing him talk about another man in that way angered me. I wanted him and I cursed myself under my breath for not trying harder to let him know how I really felt. I got up and stretched out my arms regretting ever starting such a game.

"We're not finished."

"Oh yes we are definitely finished."

"But you didn't ask me about you."

I felt my heart stop. "What about me?"

He didn't dare look at me maybe out of fear of getting carried away. "You're kind and gentle with me. You're always there when I need you, hell you're always there when I don't need you. You're warm and inviting. You're the best friend I've ever had. I love the way you scrunch up your face when you're angry. It makes you look like a hedgehog and I love that thing you do when you're content."

"What thing?"

"You know…you purr to yourself."

"I do not purr! I'm not a fucking cat!"

"You do and it's insanely annoying, but I still love it."

"Are you done?" Part of me loved hearing him say such wonderful things about me, but part of me felt as if he was simply mocking me.

"To answer the question yes I would sleep with you."

I took a deep breath. "Do you mean that?"

"Of course I do."

My heart was overwhelmed with joy and I no longer felt ashamed to tell him just how madly in love with him I was. "I love you Sherlock."

He smiled and tilted his head in my direction. "I love you too John. Would you sleep with me?"

"Absolutely, but not when you're in this condition. You have to rest."

I thought I heard him groan softly almost as if he was displeased by the idea of not being allowed to have his way with me. "Fine. Promise me one thing though."

"Anything."

"When I get better promise me you'll be my first. If I'm going to lose my virginity I want it to be given away to someone I love."

I walked over to the couch and kneeled down next to him taking his hand in mine and squeezing it hard. "I promise."


	4. Greg

I woke up the next morning with the worst stiff neck I'd had in years. I slowly lifted my head the pain radiating down into my spine as I tried to turn it.

"Sher…" I glanced over and watched as he slept on the couch his mouth open slightly allowing a stream of drool to trickle down his chin. At least one of us had gotten a good night's sleep. "Yeah just sleep you big bum."

"I will thank you."

I jumped at the sudden sound of his voice falling out of my chair and onto the floor which just aggravated my neck even more. "I hate it when you do that!"

"I know. I would come and help you up, but you know I'm still injured."

I picked myself up off the floor and turned my entire body to look at him. "Of course Sherlock. Milk it for all it's worth."

"What is wrong with you?"

"It's my neck. I can't move it."

"Sounds like a problem."

"You think?"

"I love it when you get snippy with me. You do that cute little hedgehog thing with your face."

"I do no such thing with my face!"

"Do I make cute faces when I'm upset?"

"No you just kind of scrunch your face up making you look almost like that guy who rings the bell at Notre Dame."

"Quasimodo!"

"That's him! The guy with the hunchback."

"I take offense to that."

"You would. Do you want some breakfast?"

"Coffee, two eggs scrambled, toast and bacon. Thank you."

"Don't get use to this. I'm not Mrs. Hudson you know." I turned and made my way to the kitchen to make breakfast finding it rather difficult to do when I had to literally shift my entire body just to complete simple everyday tasks. "Um…is it ok if your eggs are shredded instead of scrambled?"

"Shredded eggs? Is it going to back me up? You know how I feel about spending more than an hour in the loo."

"No the eggs won't back you up, but the coffee might."

"If it's your coffee I give myself 20 minutes 40 at the most."

"Thank you for sharing." I finished making his breakfast and headed over to him placing the plate on the coffee table. I had to admit it wasn't my best work and it pretty much looked as if someone had vomited on a plate. "What is that?"

"It's your breakfast."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive."

"Doesn't look like breakfast."

"Well I can't move my neck so just shut up and eat."

"Fine." He sat up slowly and I watched in amusement as he made the most peculiar faces. "Is this pain ever going to subside?"

"Oh in about 6 weeks. If you'd take your pain medication you wouldn't be feeling this bad."

"I have been taking it."

"Liar. I found your pills hidden under that mess on the desk."

"Dammit." He mumbled under his breath as he began picking apart his breakfast. "I can't eat this. I don't even know what's what."

I winced and began to lean over the weight of my head causing my neck to hurt even more. "Well this right here is bacon…and this…I think this is toast…" I picked it up and sniffed it. "Yep definitely toast…"

"John."

"And these are your eggs don't let the color fool you."

"John."

"What Sherlock?"

"Come sit here between my knees."

I smiled at the idea partly because it sounded completely ridiculous. "What are you going to do? Crush my head with your thighs?"

"No. Just come sit please."

I stood up straight and did as he told me sitting down on the floor between his knees which were in perfect position to smash my head in. "You sure you're not going to hurt me…oh." I felt his big warm hands rubbing against my neck and for a split second I felt as if I had stepped right into a spa. "How did you learn how to do this?"

"Lestrade gets stiff necks all the time."

I rolled my eyes. "Does he now? Good for Greg."

"Don't be jealous."

"I'm not jealous. Why would I be jealous? It's Lestrade there's nothing to be jealous of." I felt him begin to knead the back of my neck with his knuckles as a chill ran down my spine causing goose bumps to appear on my arms. "You should have been a masseur."

"I'm surprised you even knew not to call me a masseuse."

"I took French for a year."

"Vous êtes un homme incroyable avec des mains masculines, les mains que je veux me toucher dans les lieux aucun autre homme a touché."

"I said I took it for a year! What did you even just say to me?" His hands move down to my shoulders squeezing them tightly as he moved them about releasing all the tension that had built up in my muscles. "A little to the left."

He shifted his hands. "I'm not telling you what I said."

"Come on that's not fair. I made you breakfast."

"You made me vomit on a plate."

"Close enough."

"No." He reached up and used his thumb to apply pressure at the base of my skull before running it down the middle of my neck. "You're so tense."

I looked down taking note of the growing erection that was beginning to show itself through my sleep pants. "God you have no idea."

"If you think I don't see it you're wrong."

"OK Sherlock…" I stood up nearly knocking him over for he wasn't quite ready to stop his massage. "Have you ever…given head before?"

"What does that even mean?"

"Like…have you ever gobbled a man off?" He raised his eyebrow showing his confusion. "Have you ever given a blow job?"

"With a hair dryer? Sure I give myself blow jobs all the time."

I slapped my hand against my face in frustration. "Have you ever performed fellatio?"

He thought for a minute about what fellatio could possibly be and then it hit him. His eyes widened and his let out a drawn out "Oh" from his lips causing his mouth to form a perfect heart shape. "Well…once…"

"What?"

"I was in grammar school. He dared me and I never turn down a dare."

"Good then you shouldn't have any issues giving me one."

"Right of course." He smiled to himself and grabbed me around my waist pulling me in closer to him leaving a trail of kissed along the line of hair that ran from my navel to my nether regions. I closed my eyes waiting to feel him touch me waiting to feel his mouth envelope me…I listened as his cell phone began to go off and immediately my eyes flew open. I could feel myself tensing up again in anger. I watched as he answered it and I couldn't believe he would do such a thing. "GOD YOU'RE KIDDING ME RIGHT!" He lifted his finger at me which only made me more annoyed. "DON'T GIVE ME THE FINGER LIKE THAT! HANG UP THE PHONE! WHO IS IT ANYWAYS?"

"It's Greg."

I rolled my eyes. "Go figure. Tell him we're busy!"

I watched the expression on Sherlock's face as he reached for a piece of paper. "Could you hand me a pen?"

It was then I realized the mood was all but lost and the detective was no longer interested in things of a sexual nature. I sighed and handed him a pen before retreating to the bathroom to relieve myself. I stepped out minutes later only to see that he was still on the phone chatting and laughing away. I walked over and sat down next to the detective taking the phone from him. "Greg what do you want? I mean really?"

"Stop being rude!" Sherlock shouted taking the phone back and finishing the phone call. "You know how I am about my work John."

It was true and I knew his job would always be more important even before I told him of my true feelings. "I'm sorry. He just called at the most inappropriate time. I can't believe you answered it!"

"Why shouldn't I have?"

"Rule number one of being intimate…don't ever answer the phone no matter who it is. Now what did he want?"

"There's been a murder at Scotland Yard."

"What do you mean at Scotland Yard?"

"I mean they actually found a body lying on the pavement right in front of the building."

"Jesus Christ."

"Problem is no one saw a thing at least no one is admitting to seeing anything. Seems unusual he thought we could help."

"Well let's get to it then."

"John…"

"What?"

He looked at me with an apologetic expression plastered on his face. "I'm sorry I answered the phone. I swear I wasn't trying to avoid being intimate with you. I really wanted to be."

I smiled and kissed his cheek assuring him that my anger was only temporary. "I know Sherlock."


	5. Taxi Cab Rendezvous

The case proved to be a lot less exciting than either of us anticipated and it didn't take Sherlock long to piece it together. Apparently there are a lot of angry husbands in London and they get exceptionally angry when they find out you've been banging their wife for the past six months. So angry in fact that they'll strangle you with a bit of fishing rope before chucking you right out the window. As soon as we finished we tried to leave without having to stop and talk to Greg after all Sherlock was due to see his mother in less than an hour and he knew how bad traffic could get. We wouldn't get far as the inspector came running from around the corner his perfect hair blowing in the wind which seemed to tickle Sherlock's fancy for he had the stupidest looking grin on his face.

I nudged him with my elbow. "Stop staring."

"It's the silver fox how can I not stare?"

"Stop calling him that."

The inspector stopped and leaned over catching his breath before standing up to speak. "I've been trying to catch you for the past 10 minutes."

"I'm uncatchable." Sherlock said before smiling shyly.

Holy shit was he seriously trying to flirt with this man?

"I'm having a Christmas party this weekend. I want you and John to come."

The smile on the detectives face quickly faded. "No."

Greg's eyes widened in shock at his friend's answer. "No? You can't tell me no."

"Dammit you're right."

"Stop it." I said forcefully having had enough of Sherlock playing coy with the inspector.

"I was just agreeing with the man. Well as right as you are I still must decline."

"Oh stop being so anti-social Sherlock. I came to your party last year."

"Because your wife was banging the gym teacher."

"Regardless. Come on it will be fun."

As much as I didn't want him to accept Greg's invitation on a count that he seemed to have a thing for the silver haired inspector I knew in the end he would give in.

"Fine, but don't expect me to stay very long." Lestrade nodding knowingly before bidding us farewell and disappearing down the sidewalk. "I hate parties. Especially his they're always so boring. Don't tell him I said that. Oh wait he already knows."

"You know what this means don't you?"

"It means he's boring."

"No. We have to buy him a gift now."

Sherlock whipped his head around as I hailed a cab. "We have to do no such thing." We hopped into the backseat taking off for Mycroft's house which was located outside of the city.

"We'll get him a bar of soap he'll be fine."

I rolled my eyes. "You bought him a bar of soap last year."

"And he smells sufficient does he not?"

"I wouldn't know I don't smell him." I never understood why Sherlock loathed shopping so much especially considering he was related to Mycroft. I had always seen the older Holmes brother out and about at Harrods sometimes he'd even pop on over to Covent Gardens. If anyone had the shopping bug in that family it was definitely him. I knew I had to think of a way to persuade Sherlock to help me buy Lestrade a present, and this would prove to be easier than I thought for I knew exactly how to get him to say yes. "I could call Mycroft…"

"MYCROFT?" He shouted. "What does Mycroft know about buying presents? He bought me a pair of socks last year."

"You wear them."

"I do no such thing. We are not calling Mycroft. I will think of something."

"Good." I said satisfied with the end result. "By the way why are you sitting so close to me?" I looked down at Sherlock's thigh which was pressed tightly against mine. "You never sit this close to me."

"I'm cold."

"You have your coat on."

"My thigh is cold."

I smiled to myself before reaching my hand out and placing it on his thigh which sent him into a frenzy. He quickly shooed me away and threw my hand back onto my lap.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!"

I stared at him in disbelief and was hurt by his actions. He was embarrassed to be seen with me embarrassed to show public affection towards me. It shouldn't have come as a surprise after all Sherlock was a very private person, but I still longed for his affections in public and private.

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that." I cursed myself under my breath. "Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?"

Sherlock turned his head and looked at me. I could tell he saw the pain in his eyes and I watched as his usually tense shoulders began to loosen up.

"I'm not embarrassed no." He then grabbed my hand and placed it back on his thigh. "Happy?" I watched the expression on his face. It was beautiful it was the face of a man who had no idea how to be intimate someone who was lost in all things concerning physicality between people and it made him seem so vulnerable and human.

"Almost." I leaned in my face mere inches away from him.

"John…"

"Just shhh." I then pressed my lips against his kissing him softly. He had the most amazing lips I had ever tasted. It was funny they didn't taste of this morning's breakfast or of their typical flesh. They tasted of warm cinnamon and it filled my body with a fire that burned uncontrollably. I had to taste him even if it was just a little bit. I waited for his mouth to open slightly and I slid my tongue in pressing it gently against his. I knew this would startle him and I wasn't surprised when he pulled away and stared at me.

"What was that?"

"Oh um…that's what people do when they make out they tend to…" He didn't even let me finish. He pulled my face into his and jammed his tongue into my mouth almost causing me to choke on it. I regained my composure just enough to enjoy what was going on. Our tongues danced around each other our breath flowing freely into each other's mouths. I felt him nibble at my bottom lip and in that moment I was in heaven. For someone with so little experience I was quite surprised at how well Sherlock kissed. His kissing style was aggressive, but not overly to the point where he would dump a ton of spit into my mouth the way Sarah use to. I kissed him for a few minutes longer before he shouted out 3 words that would kill the mood.

"BE MY BOYFRIEND!" I pulled away or at least tried to for he still had a firm grip on my lower lip.

"OW SHIT!" I shouted almost ripping my lower lip off.

"GOD I'M SORRY!" He panicked and reached into his pocket grabbing a Kleenex and pressing it against my bleeding lip. "I SHOULDN'T HAVE ASKED YOU THAT IT'S TOO SOON!"

"No no it's fine." I said feeling my lip beginning to swell. "What are you a barracuda?" I half expected him to be completely pissed off for my sudden sarcasm, but instead he began to laugh. "Don't be sorry. I have to admit for a long time I really wanted to hear you say it, but after you left just…"

"I know. I should have never left and I'm…"

"Stop saying you're sorry! I hate it when you do that! There's nothing to be sorry for! Do you hear me?" He nodded still quite embarrassed by what had just happened and by the fact that the cab driver had witnessed it all. "You did what you had to do and I will come around eventually. I'm not saying no and I'm not saying yes." I wanted nothing more than to say yes, but at that moment I couldn't. I looked out the window taking note of the fact that the cab was no longer moving. "Why have we stopped?"

"Cause you're here." The cab driver said in his thick Scottish accent.

I nodded and handed the man what we owed stepping out of the car and stretching my legs. "Well it hasn't changed much. It's still as creepy as I remember it." Sherlock came up next to me and threw his arm around my shoulders.

"Is that my Sherlock?" A feeble voice shouted. We watched as an elderly woman in a wheel chair appeared in front of the gate being pushed by none other than Mycroft.

Sherlock smiled and waved. He then let his true feelings be known through his clinched teeth. "Oh God kill me now. Whatever she says John it's all a lie."


	6. Hedgehog Rage

I watched as Sherlock leaned down and reluctantly gave his mother a kiss on her cheek. Everything seemed to be going well and I couldn't understand why the detective had been so distant from her. He went to stand up and the next thing I knew she slapped him hard in the face taking him by surprise.

"WHY HAVEN'T YOU CALLED ME? YOU UNGRATEFUL CHILD!"

"ARE YOU INSANE?" He shouted rubbing his burning cheek and stepping away from her trembling in anger.

Part of me was afraid he'd simply slap her back and I quickly rubbed his back with my hand to calm him down. He took a deep breath and cracked his neck before smiling.

"I'm sorry I didn't call. I've been busy."

She then turned her attention to me and I felt my stomach drop. "And who is this?"

"This is my flat mate Doctor John Watson."

Mycroft snickered which caught their mothers ear. "What's so funny Mycroft?"

He looked at his baby brother the wheels turning in his head. "I think you and Sherlock should have a little chat."

Sherlock shook his head. "No no...Why would I want to do that? I think we should all go inside and have a nice cup of tea." He then quickly pushed Mycroft out of the way and took control of his mother's wheelchair pushing it quickly inside successfully avoiding having to tell his mother he was gay.

Part of me was upset I mean I wanted him to tell her the truth because I wanted us to be together one day. Then again I wasn't any better for my parents were still completely in the dark about my own homosexuality. I just went with it making sure to keep my mouth shut so as not to let anything slip like I did last time. We sat outside on the patio while the butler served us hot tea and cakes. It was awkwardly quiet and no one really had much to say. I then realized why once their mother began rambling on about their childhood.

"Mycroft do you remember that one time you and Sherlock went swimming down at the lake?"

Mycroft nodded and Sherlock scrunched his face. "You mean the time he tried to drown me?"

Everyone shot looks at Sherlock who was quick to remind his older brother of his bad deeds. "It was an accident."

"Holding someone under water for 6 minutes isn't an accident!"

"Not my fault."

"Who was sitting on my head then?"

"Now boys! Let's stop while we're ahead." We all quieted down and went back to our drinks, but it wouldn't last long.

"Maybe I was getting you back for stealing my Action Man."

Sherlock slammed his cup and saucer down causing it to clink loudly. "I didn't steal it! Mother and father gave that too me for Christmas and you were jealous because you wanted one!"

"That's a lie!"

"Is it Mycroft? Why is it then that you ripped his head off and then chucked him at me almost causing me to lose my right eye?"

"You can still see can't you?"

"THAT'S BESIDE THE POINT!"

The moment Sherlock jumped out of his chair I knew it was time to put an end to it. I stood up and placed my hand on his shoulder trying desperately to sit him back down, but he wouldn't budge. "Come on Sherlock not here."

Sherlock's face was turning a horrible shade of red and I flinched slightly when he whipped his head around and stared down at me. "John can I see you inside?" He asked pulling away from me and heading inside with me right behind him trying to keep up with his quick long strides.

We walked down a long hallway, and then another, rounding the corner before stopping. "What is it?" I asked still confused as all hell as to what was going on.

He opened the door and peeked inside making sure it was empty. "Come along." I followed him and was taken aback by how childlike the room was in appearance. I looked at the bike that leaned against the wall a handful of green army men surrounded it. On the opposite side was a double bed with Action Man bed sheets, a bookcase, and a desk with papers strewn about it. I then smiled to myself and looked at the detective who seemed to still be brooding.

"This is your old room isn't it?" He nodded. "Why did you never tell me this is where you grew up?"

"What does it matter? Father left it to Mycroft it's his now. I'm surprised though he hasn't changed a thing."

"Sherlock this is...adorable."

He raised his eyebrows. "What?"

I ran over and grabbed the teddy bear off of the bookcase and cuddled it. "It's Sherlock's little teddy bear. Aw did you cuddle this as a child?"

"What the hell is wrong with you? Now put Mr. Snuggles back..."

I gasped. "MR. SNUGGLES! Can we take him home with us?"

"No."

"Oh come on."

"John..."

"What?"

"Your gay is showing."

I then realized I was being a little erratic and I cleared my throat regaining control of myself. "Sorry...I just...part of me thought maybe you were just born a full grown man I never imagined you being a child."

He smirked and tossed me a look that made my heart race before saying something that caught me completely off guard. "Take your clothes off."

I tilted my head in confusion. "I'm sorry?"

"I said take your clothes off! Didn't you hear me?"

I said not another word as I pulled off my dark gray cardigan and dropped it onto the floor followed by my light blue button down shirt. Next came my belt and I had barely gotten it unfastened when I looked up and saw the detective hovering over me his ice blue eyes seeming to pierce my soul. I swallowed hard and felt his fingers tips trace the hair on my lower stomach. I actually began to quiver something I hadn't experienced yet even though I considered myself an expert on sex. I took a deep breath and watched has his hand trailed down finding its way down into my boxers.

"Sherlock..."

"John just shut up!" He kissed me hard grabbing tightly onto my growing want as I moaned softly against his lips. He pulled away biting at my lower lip and trailing kisses down my neck and chest. He pulled my now throbbing cock from its resting place and kneeled down running his tongue up the underside of my shaft before circling it around the head. My knees were growing weaker by the second and all I could do was find something sturdy to hold onto. I stretched my arms out holding on to the shelves of the bookcase as I prepared to feel myself in his hot warm mouth.

"Just...just...remember your teeth. No teeth." I still have no idea why I said that I mean he had done it before and surely he wasn't that inexperienced. I closed my eyes as he slowly lowered his mouth onto me humming as he sucked hard. I took one hand and grabbed ahold of his brown curly locks pulling them hard as he pushed me further into his mouth. "You...you're going to choke yourself..." He pulled off and looked up at me. My stomach dropped and I felt almost as if I had completely ruined the moment. "So...sorry."

He smiled. "I lack gag reflexes."

"SHIT!"

He then took me in completely I could feel myself at the back of his throat as he grabbed ahold of my ass and squeezed it tightly pulling me in towards him. By now I was feeling horrible for refusing him in the cab and had I known about his gag reflexes I surely would have said yes at the top of my lungs. I felt my toes curl as my dick throbbed harder and harder in his warm mouth. He sucked me harder humming loudly sending vibrations all the way into my balls. He sucked dick better than any man I had ever been with. He sucked with such ferociousness and passion not something I expected from Sherlock Holmes. I was going to orgasm and it was going to be the biggest most amazing fucking orgasm of my life. I threw my head back feeling myself about to explode when the door flew open and there sat Mrs. Holmes in her wheelchair a look of pure panic on her face as she let out a loud scream. I thought for sure she would drop dead right there in the hallway and Sherlock wasted no time pulling away and staring at her. I, however, couldn't stop myself. I covered my mouth to mask my loud moan as I came all over his purple shirt. I looked down at him as he looked at the mess I had made and I waited for him to start yelling, but he didn't do anything. He stood up and smiled at me before mouthing a simple "Sorry." and running after his mother who by now had bolted down the hallway.

"Mother!" He yelled to her as she rushed outside clearly upset by what she had just seen. "MOTHER!" She stopped short causing him to run right into her wheelchair hitting his shin against the wheel.

"Why didn't you tell me you were gay!"

"I was going to!" She then began sobbing uncontrollably. "Don't do that."

"My boys. Both of them. Gay!"

"It's not that bad."

"Is it something I did?"

"No of course not!"

"Are you sure you're gay? I mean I never took you for someone who liked men. You know Mr. Sawyer's daughter Caroline is just about your age and still single."

"She's also a lesbian."

"Is she?"

"Very much so." He sighed and limped over to squat down in front of her. "I swear I was going to tell you."

She sniffled and cupped his face in her hands. "My baby. I was so hoping you'd be the one to get married and give me grandchildren."

"I still can mother. I can adopt kids...er...Get married...well...fine yes I have disappointed you."

"Is he a good man? Doctor Watson?"

Sherlock smiled and ran his long fingers across her hands. "He is a very good man. He's kind and he's gentle."

"You love him?"

"I do." She still seemed extremely upset and Sherlock could see it in her eyes. He hated seeing her like this and he felt he needed to at least say something to ease her pain. "If it makes you feel any better I'm still a virgin."

She finally cracked a smile and patted him on the face. "Good boy. You save that for when you're married."

"Uh...sure yeah sure."

"You're not going to are you?"

"No. Now let's get you back inside you'll catch cold." He got up and wheeled her back inside being met by Mycroft who seemed alarmed.

"What happened? I heard screaming?"

"Nothing Mycroft." Sherlock retorted not wanting to divulge into details.

"Quite right. Your brother was just gobbling off his flat mate."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Thanks mother."

Mycroft couldn't hide his satisfaction as he smirked at baby brother. "About time. By the way you should send that shirt to the cleaners."

Mycroft and his mother then departed leaving Sherlock there to think about everything that had just happened. As embarrassing as it was he couldn't help, but laugh. His deep booming cackle echoed throughout the hallways and it certainly caught my attention as I appeared from the next room.

"There you are I've been looking for you. Are you ok?"

"I'm fine." He said trying to control his laughter.

"How's your mother?"

"She'll live."

I watched as tears rolled down his cheeks as he finally took a deep breath and calmed himself. I looked down at his big beautiful hands which hung at his sides. I laced my fingers with his feeling it's warmth in mine. "Sherlock..." We looked at each other knowing exactly what the next step would be. "Be my boyfriend?"

"No."

"WHAT!" I said before pulling away and slapping him on the shoulder. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO? YOU ASKED ME JUST A FEW HOURS AGO IN THE CAB AND I SAID IT WASN'T A YES AND IT WASN'T A NO AND NOW WHEN I ASK YOU JUST BLATANTLY TELL ME NO!"

"You're doing it again."

"WHAT?"

"The hedgehog thing. It's like a hedgehog rage. I can't say no to the hedgehog rage."

I rolled my eyes knowing now he had only said no to get a rise out of me. "So what is it yes or no?"

"It's a definite yes. Now come on. We need to get back to Baker Street if I stay here any longer my heads going to explode the way yours did earlier."

"Was that sexual humor I heard?"

"A horrible attempt yes."

"Actually..." I found myself being tickled by his comment. "...that was kind of funny."


	7. I Found Someone To Carry Me Home

Sherlock laid shirtless on the couch at Baker Street his eyes closed shut as he thought about the changes that were going on in his life. He had never imagined that upon returning home not only would he partake in things of a sexual nature, but he would also enter into a relationship with me his best friend and flat mate. He smiled to himself feeling happiness for once something he had yet to experience. His mind seemed to be completely calm at the moment very unusual for the detective whose mind tended to keep him up for days on end. He was becoming more and more human every day, but there were still some things about him that would never change.

I appeared in the doorway and watched him as he took a deep breath his chiseled chest sinking in slowly before rising with his exhale. "Hello."

His eyes shot open as he shifted them towards me. "Where have you been?"

I smiled and revealed his purple shirt that I had been hiding behind my back. "I got it cleaned for you. I thought maybe you could wear it tonight."

He widened his eyes slightly tilting his head. "What's tonight?"

I rolled my eyes. "Greg's party."

He groaned loudly before cursing at himself and sitting up slowly his ribs still causing him a good amount of pain. "I forgot all about his party. Can we cancel?"

"What and return his membership to the muffin of the month club?" We both broke out in laughter unable to contain ourselves. Just the thought of Lestrade sitting at his desk with a muffin in his hand was enough to make anyone chuckle.

"Don't make me laugh it hurts." He said wiping the tears from his eyes. "Did you really get him that?"

I nodded and took a seat next to Sherlock grabbing his hand and kissing it. "I did and they will send him a different flavor muffin every month for the next year. "

"That's perfect."

I looked down at his hands and traced the veins with my fingers. "You know at your mother's house you told me you lacked gag reflexes."

"I do."

"Then why is it whenever I try to get you to take your medicine you gag like it's no tomorrow?"

"Because if I do that I won't have to take them now will I?"

"Makes me wonder what else you've lied to me about."

"Oh stop it. From what I saw you quite enjoyed yourself." He patted me on my knee and stood up. "Do me a favor."

"What?"

"Don't wear that hideous Christmas sweater to the party."

"Why not? It's festive!"

"It's ugly. I want my boyfriend to look nice especially for our first outing as a couple. Wear that gray pullover sweater I bought you last year. Come on let's go shower."

"Together?"

"Do you know a better way to save water? Our water bill this month was ridiculous."

* * *

><p>One shower and deep throat head job later Sherlock and I were ready to head out. Mrs. Hudson commented on our appearance before we hailed a cab and headed over to Greg's house. As we pulled into the driveway I could see that it was going to be packed inside something Sherlock was never very comfortable with. He was ok mingling with people he knew, but once you threw him into a crowd of strangers he was a nervous wreck. I could tell he was getting anxious by the look on his face and the constant shaking of his leg. It was like a jack hammer bouncing up and down quickly.<p>

I placed my hand on his knee catching him off guard and stopping his nervous movement. "You'll be fine. Just stay close to me."

The cab stopped and the two of us got out. We stood there for a while watching the festivities through the window.

"I apologize in advance if I do anything that hurts your feelings."

I rubbed his arm to reassure him that I knew how upsetting these situations could make him. "We don't have to stay long. Whenever you're ready to leave let me know."

He nodded and to my surprise placed his arm around my waist not caring if anyone saw. That however quickly changed once the door opened and Lestrade stood there beaming a smile at us. He quickly removed his arm and shook Greg's hand with the most expressionless face.

"John! Sherlock! Come on in!"

We stepped inside and I watched as Sherlock's face turned pale.

"It's just people Sherlock." He didn't answer me back instead quickly retreating for the punch bowl to grab something to drink.

His throat was dry, his heart was racing, and the only thing that could make him feel better in that moment was a nice cold glass of punch. He poured himself a cup and took a sip immediately tasting the alcohol on his lips. He hadn't been expecting it to be so strong and he coughed as it slid down his throat.

"Everything alright?"

He turned and looked at Molly as he continued to cough. "What the hell is in this?"

"Is it too strong? I was afraid of that."

"No no it's fine just…I don't usually drink."

"Where's John?"

"He's around somewhere." He took another sip his hands trembling violently.

"I was hoping you'd come. It's good to see you."

He forced a smiled. "Well it's good to see you too. Thanks for helping me out."

An awkward silence fell between them which wasn't uncommon for the pair.

I made my way through the crowd finding Sherlock standing next to the punch bowl with Molly which I knew would eventually turn into a disaster. I tried to push past people as quickly as I could hoping to get him away from her before the situation turned awkward. I wasn't quick enough and just as I was about to approach them she pulled out mistletoe from her pocket and held it over her head.

"Shit!" I mumbled under my breath finally making it over to them and grabbing Sherlock's jacket sleeve. "I've been looking for you!"

Molly quickly tucked the mistletoe back into her pocket before rushing off completely embarrassed.

"Are you alright?"

Sherlock nodded relieved that I had shown up before Molly had any chance of attempting to kiss him.

"Here taste this." He handed me a cup of punch and I took a sip.

"Oh that's actually really good." He smiled and threw his arm around my shoulders leading me off to mingle with the other party guests. The punch was just what he needed to loosen him up and after 5 more cups he was a drunken bumbling idiot. As much as I hated seeing him in such a state after all it made me think back to the incident with Irene, but he was happy he was having fun and that's all that mattered. Greg made it a point to gather everyone around so he could reveal the winners of the best gift award given to the person who had given him the most thoughtful and useful gift. We stood around him Sherlock was feeling extra good. He grabbed my arse hard and kissed my temple as Greg announced the winner.

"Sherlock and John for signing me up for the muffin of the month club! Lord knows I love muffins!"

The two of us cheered and approached the inspector who seemed a little surprised by Sherlock's appearance, but the shock would be intensified the moment the detective grabbed me and kissed me hard in front of everyone in the room. We both smiled and stared at each other before turning to Greg who's eyes were bulging out of his head.

"SURPRISED?" Sherlock said slurring the word slightly. "Well so am I!" He then kissed me again and all Greg could do by then was laugh along with us.

We stayed longer than we had anticipated and everyone seemed to really be enjoying a very smashed Sherlock and by the time we got ready to leave I was completely intoxicated myself. We stumbled to the front door and grabbed our coats struggling to put them on all the while laughing at absolutely nothing.

"Sherlock."

He turned to face Molly falling into the wall in the process. "Molly Hooper."

I could tell she was upset not that I cared I was completely drunk and completely unable to care.

"You're gay."

"As gay as a fairy!" He stated before twirling around in a circle.

"You could have told me."

"I thought you knew!"

"I didn't."

"Well that's a shame. Yes yes…I am gay gay gay gay gay gay and this is my boyfren John. I love him."

"You're a horrible person. Do you know that?"

"Hey hey hey hey!" I shouted stepping in on Sherlock's behalf. "He is not a horrible person you take that back! He never wanted you I thought it was obvious or did he not always reject your attempts at getting into his trousers?" She then walked away crying leaving me there not knowing how badly my words had hurt her.

Somehow the detective and I managed to make it back home. We crawled up the stairs to our flat kissing and fondling each other the entire way there. Sherlock took off his scarf and slapped it across my face as some sort of flirtatious gesture.

"Meeeet me in the bedroom. My body is ready for you Mr. Watson." He then stumbled away leaving me there smiling at the thought of finally going to bed with the man I loved. Instead I awoke the next morning, on the couch, with a splitting headache, my pants down around my ankles and no recollection of last nights events.


End file.
